


this woman is my destiny

by luminarium



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: F/M, Romantic Fluff, because we are worth it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 09:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4872133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luminarium/pseuds/luminarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are my woman.”</p><p>She tried to ignore the fire building up in her belly and refused to blink.</p><p>“For the sake of the mission.” He finished, breaking the spell again, looking down and placing the pawn on the board.</p><p>It sounded all very final. Perhaps this meant that he was done talking, but she wasn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this woman is my destiny

Gaby took the glass he was offering, which had less vodka than she would have liked, and raised her ridiculously expensive, fashionable spectacles to her head before taking a sip. Her Russian companion sat across her in front of his chessboard but didn’t take his eyes off her. 

“Illya” she said, sensing his piercing gaze on her. “You are staring again”.

He didn’t move or say a thing. He simply looked at her and she felt a furious warmth rise in her cheeks.

“Illya” she tried again, not looking up from her glass (for some reason she didn’t dare to meet his eyes when we has looking at her so intently,  _she had done that before and…_ ) “It’s infuriating”.

Eventually, he blinked. At last, he dropped his gaze to the table between them.

“I apologize, chop shop girl”.

“Still calling me that, are you?” It was her turn to scrutinize him, all hunched over the little table, one hand above the little chess pieces, contemplating his next move.  “Maybe I should start calling you ‘Peril’ then”.

He grunted in disapproval, but did not look up from the chessboard.

“Cowboy calls me ‘Peril’.”

“How about ‘Red Danger’?” she attempted, her propensity to try to get a rise out of him quickly coming back to her.

He shook his head, without taking his eyes from the white queen on the opposite side of the board, “My woman wouldn’t call me that.”

This time it was her that was caught off balance, but she’d be damned if she was going to let him notice. “I see you spent quite some time thinking about  _your_  woman.” The teasing edge in her voice was not lost on him, nor something else that made his chest feel heavy underneath his black shirt. Straightening his back all of the sudden, the chess piece firmly within his grasp, he looked up at her.

“You are  _my_  woman.”

She tried to ignore the fire building up in her belly and refused to blink.

“For the sake of the mission.” He finished, breaking the spell again, looking down and placing the pawn on the board.

It sounded all very final. Perhaps this meant that he was done talking, but she wasn’t.

“Oh?”

The ridiculously big spectacles flew to the bed and before he could understand what was happening, the voice of a woman calling after his lover in a jazz record that Gaby was so fond of warned him about what to expect. Gaby returned, moving with the grace of a much drunker dancer, all playful and determined. He inhaled deeply in anticipation.

“Well,” she said in a sultry voice, so much like her own and yet more private, “ _my_  man would not refuse to dance with me.”

She pulled his arm, making him stand up from the sofa, and taking extra care not to knock down the chessboard, she climbed up the table. Though he was willing enough to play along, she still felt the ghost of a previous dance between them.

“Illya.”

“Gaby?”

At the sound of his deep accented voice saying her name like  _that_ , she decided she would get as close to him as he would let her.

Putting her hands in his, she whispered close to his face, “I’ll let you lead.”

He swallowed. This was not the kind of dance he was expecting.

“For the sake of the mission, of course.”

The drumming of his heartbeat in his ears didn’t let him hear her punchline as he closed the distance between his lips and hers.  

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I had to get out of my system, because I've been in Gallya Hell since I first watched this wonderful movie and now this OTP practically owns my existence. I've been reading countless pieces exploring their relationship and, I don't know, this happened. I LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY ANYMORE. 
> 
> The title is from the song "Shut up and Dance" by Walk the Moon.
> 
> I own nothing, everything belongs to Guy Ritchie and his talented movie-making colleagues.


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